Blai gets his hand on a skeleton and burns a Comprehend Languages to "cure" it.

It instantly clatters to the ground as inanimate bones.

Okay. He has all the Stabilizes he needs and everybody injured less badly than those who need the rest of his spells can wait till tomorrow first thing in the morning. He wades in to the battlefield and channels.

3d6 = 11

Within 39 feet:

• Every skeleton and zombie instantly dies.
• The ghouls collapse to the ground, but seem to still be alive, if barely, and continue crawling towards the living.
• Some of the zombies are actually Wights, and stagger, but do not fall.

The Crypt Lord roars in pain. Chunks of its patchwork body slough to the ground. It teeters and catches the building to its side to steady itself. It was injured before, but now it looks like it's almost falling apart, its newly knitted flesh splitting at the seams.

The defenders are in a bit of a shock. They gather themselves, though, and with a resounding cheer, advance. Ranged attacks rain on the Crypt Lord, and it starts retreating and shielding itself.

But the undead is still coming, streaming from wherever they're all coming from to replace the destroyed horde and protect the Crypt Lord. (It's pretty clearly commanding the lesser undead to fend off the people advancing on it, now.)

He doesn't have another one of those and if he touches the thing to nail it with a spontaneous cure it's going to melt his hand off. He'll cover anybody with a ranged attack as best he can.

The Crypt Lord is in full retreat now, but the lesser undead is still a problem. Well, they are, until—

A tide of black smashes into the undead ranks from the side like a sledgehammer, displacing them with pure physical momentum. The swarming mass is hard to differentiate out in the first moments, but as the newcomers spread out to fight, you're able to see the large, stocky frames, armor-plated ant-men half again the height of a Drake, with heavy, spiked chitin-gauntlets that tear through rotting flesh like it's paper. There's dozens of them, spilling into the street, and more where they're coming from.

One of them climbs the side of a building and leaps onto the Crypt Lord, plunging its limbs into the greater undead's body and starting to rip it apart chunk by chunk. Its shell is melting from the acidic blood, but it doesn't stop even as its knees stop working and the ends of its arms dissolve into unrecognizable stubs.

Some of the humans and Drakes shout and strike a retreat at the sight, but someone yells, "Antinium Soldiers! Reinforce!"

Not all the previous defenders run back in immediately, but the Watch Guardsmen do, shouting for the rest to follow.

If "reinforce" means something specific to these people he'll attempt to join them in the action in the way they're expecting of one another but if it just means "don't run away" yeah he's on it.

That's pretty much what it means. There are distinctions in phrasing to the Watch and Army veterans, but half of these people are randos here in town for the dungeon, so they're not expecting too much.

With the reinforcements, they'll be able to hold the street without trouble and push back the undead. When they get to the next junction, there's a sort of—wave of disorientation that passes over the horde, and they seem to lose the cohesion and acuity they had before, reverting to more like the standard shambling dead.

That'll make them easier to dispatch without taking too many hits. He's actually not that badly beat up so far.

Progress indeed gets a lot faster after that. They're closing the perimeter in on the northern gate. A Senior Guardsman confirms she has the power to and takes command of the Antinium forces, and assembles a more organized front.

At some point they'll merge with another group, and more Guardsmen will show up, and one starts to get the impression that the random adventurers and citizens, while greatly valued for risking their lives for the city at the start, are now becoming a teensy bit redundant. Some of them will peel off, get healing, start moving the bodies out of the street and so on.

At this point he will, yes, put his mace back on his belt and backtrack, Stabilizing downed people whether they need it or not, every six seconds.

That's... actually really impressive. Who is this guy. (No one asks him, though.) People are mostly giving people a bit of potion if they look like they're literally about to die, otherwise just getting them propped up against a wall.

"—I heard there's a human necromancer around—"

        "The Necromancer?"

"No, just some guy."

                "—didn't they execute him?"

"Did they?"

        "I thought they came from the dungeon. We were seeng a lot of undead down on the eastern side of the third floor last week."

                "You were on the third floor?"

        "There was a giant skin-stealing slug monster at one of the gates." Shudder. "The Watch Captain thought it was controlling it. I reckon it's a boss monster, followed some idiots out of the dungeon..."

"You're not serious."

        "I swear, I saw it just rip all the hide of a Drake off with a touch. I'll have nightmares about it."

Wow, fucked up. If he'd seen Some Guy on the side of the undead he'd definitely have Qualmed the guy preferentially instead of wasting it on an evidently immune undead monstrosity but he did not see a guy even after he'd blown the Qualm. Stabilize. Stabilize. Stabilize.

"Hope I get a level out of this. What a shitshow."

        "Dicey there for a second, wasn't it."

A few eyes turn to Blai. "Hey, what was the thing you did, that killed all of those things straight dead? Never seen anything like that."

"Positive energy like I use to heal damages the undead, but I wasn't sure it would work the same way here as on Golarion, until I tried it on one skeleton."

"It's the same thing as the healing, really? Weird. Is it a [Healer] Skill?"

Stabilize. "It's a Golarion thing. If you want to ask more about it come by when I'm at home." Stabilize. Walk walk.

No interrupting Healing Guy while he's Healing, got it. They're still moving dead and living bodies out of the road, so they won't be able to keep up with Blai's progress. But there's more people all down the street, helping out, a lot of them regular citizens unbarring their doors now the fighting's over and coming out to do what they can.

At some point, a small train of wagons will come down the street to pick up the wounded. They've already collected everyone alive from that direction, the driver tells him—a young Gnoll with red fur. If he wants to ride along and Stabilize people, he can. They have a [Healer] in the back trying to stitch up the worst off among the ones they already picked up, but there's only so much he can do.

Riding along to Stabilize people is good, yes, starting with anybody trying to nod off and die in the cart.

The [Healer]'s process involves a needle and thread, copious amounts of bandages and sparing use of Skills to stop people from bleeding out.

"...You really make my profession entirely redundant, don't you," says the [Healer] as he sees Blai in action.

"- no, absolutely not, there is only one of me and my real healing is very limited in availability per day. I also can't do anything about it if they get infected. Please continue."

"Your class is hard to get or something?" he asks. "I'm not going to stop, there's just going to be more waiting to be treated back at the city square once we're done with the circuit. I hope the city's going to compensate me for all these supplies I'm spending."